“Virtuous Citizenship”: Ethnicity and Encapsulation among Akan-

Speaking Ghanaian Methodists in London

Mattia Fumanti

Paper for the Conference on African Transnational and Return Migration in the Context of North-South Relations, University of Warwick, Coventry, United Kingdom, 29-30 June 2009

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Abstract:

This paper examines the ways first generation Ghanaian Methodists in London construct

citizenship in the context of highly encapsulated ethnic fellowships, characterised by the

exclusive usage of Akan, Ghanaian styles of worship and an ethos of mutual assistance.

Encapsulation seems irreconcilable with an idea of an active citizenship as grounded in

participation in the public sphere of the nation. Yet it is within these encapsulated fellowships

that first generation Ghanaian Methodists construct citizenship through the making of a

diasporic Ghanaian identity grounded in the ideas of hard-work, respect for the rule of law,

virtue and morality. Building on Aristotle’s concept of citizenship as an expression of virtue,

goodness and the preservation of harmony among citizens and the state, I call Ghanaian

Londoners, often ‘virtual’ in the sense of lacking legal residence, ‘virtuous citizenship’. The

paper also addresses issues of multiculturalism and tranansnational belonging through an

analysis of a current debate within the Methodist polity.

Keywords: Citizenship, Ethnicity, Methodism, Ghanaian diaspora, London, Multiculturalism

Introduction

The literature on the new African Diaspora in Britain and the US has tended to underline loss

of status, alienation and invisibility experienced by African migrants. Stoller (2002), for

example, citing Ellison’s Invisible man, describes the experience of a Songhay trader in New

York as the life of ‘an unseen person... who walked among the shadows’ (2002:6), while

Akyempong (2001) and Vasta and Kandilige (2007) argue that Ghanaians conceptualise

London as ‘the great leveller’. Arriving from Africa often with high-level professional

qualifications and education, Ghanaian migrants end up in menial jobs and experience a loss

of status: ‘the elites rubbing shoulders with the illiterates’ (Akyempong 2001: 196). JoAnn

McGregor describes the experience of shame associated with de-skilling among Zimbabwean

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professionals working in care homes for the elderly (McGregor 2007). In this context,

nostalgia for home, and the pain of disconnection take centre stage in powerful narratives of

displacement (D’Alisera 2004). This is also expressed in novels such as The children of the

revolution on Ethiopians in Washington D.C (Mengestu 2007). Such an emphasis on

alienation and loss of status, while capturing a deep-seated truth on the reality of racism and

daily discrimination encountered by many African migrants, can potentially, overlook the

complexity of the new African diaspora experience.

Alienation and invisibility may disguise active citizenship within a diaspora

community, invisible to outside bodies, although undoubtedly, incoming migrants do find

some aspects and values of the society they live in deeply unsettling (Stoller 2002, d’Alisera

2004). Against this alienation and invisibility, social involvement with their communities

opens up for migrants other avenues for recognition and distinction. Encapsulation in

political, religious and mutual aid associations has long been recognised as an essential aspect

of the process of settlement in a new country (Mayer 1971, Whyte 1943, Werbner 1990,

2002)1. As Sam Selvon’s (1956) classic novel, The Lonely Londoners, on post-war migration

from the Caribbean reminded us more than fifty years ago, hopes and dreams, places of

recognition and visibility, co-exist with alienation and invisibility.

This paper aims to build on this dualism in the literature by addressing the way in

which Ghanaians in Britain negotiate their sense of belonging and citizenship while

remaining double rooted, commited to both Britain and Ghana, and despite being in some

cases overstayers who are neither British citizens nor legally resident in Britain. In particular,

the paper reflects on the way that membership in the Methodist church in Britain and Ghana

mediates for Ghanaian Methodists a sense of citizenship, based on moral and ethical ideas of

virtuous performance.

1 For a discussion on the new African diaspora see Grillo and Mazzucato 2008, Krause 2008, Fumanti 2009, Mazzucato 2008, Mohan 2006, McGregor 2008, Page, Mercer and Evans 2009.

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For first generation Ghanaian Methodist migrants in London the Methodist church

becomes a space for the construction of a unique ‘diasporic' citizenship, irrespective of the

formalities of passports and voting rights. This is because the church constitutes for migrants

a transnational polity, one that is both British and Ghanaian, a naturalised, taken-for-granted

continuum arising from the long history of Methodism as a British mission in Ghana (Bartels

1965). For Ghanaians in Britain, whether or not they are officially full British citizens outside

the church assumes secondary importance to their sense of entitlement as postcolonial

citizens returning to the home country. Critical is their status and role within the church itself.

Though in many cases lacking official papers, and frequently suffering discrimination and

loss of status at work, with many employed in manual labour despite their educational

qualifications, the Methodist church provides the space where Ghanaian migrants can

construct their sense of being both ‘British’ and worthy citizens. This stems from migrants’

recognition of the Methodist church as an essentially British institution which recognises

their loyalty and allegiance whatever their formal status. By working and achieving

recognition within the church, they see themselves as living virtuous and dignified lives in

British society more generally. The church is thus a space where their contribution to Britain

as good Christians within a Christian nation is morally acknowledged.

Ghanaian Methodists construct their subjecthood as virtuous performance. According

to this ideal, citizenship, the right to national belonging, is achieved by being law abiding,

hard working, and actively involved in Methodist fellowships through acts of caring, charity,

nurture, and human fellowship. Nevertheless, the space of the church is also the space in

which tensions inherent in the wider concept of citizenship between universalism and

particularism are played out. On the one hand, citizenship for Ghanaians is founded on

universal Christian values of love and care. They phrase this in terms of the Akan concept of

empathy, ɔtema. On the other hand, universal caring remains in tension with particular

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membership in Ghanaian ‘ethnic’ fellowships. These often exclude Caribbeans and other

African groups within and outside the church. Moreover, their highly moralistic ideal of

proper conduct promotes a sense of moral superiority in relation to the ‘English’, the host

society, and a negative judgement of their perceived immoral and sinful behaviour. Hence,

competition and opposition both within and beyond the ethnic group typifies membership in

Akan Methodist fellowships. Indeed, my paper discloses, the Akan tendency towards

encapsulation and ethnic particularism within the church has come to be regarded as highly

problematic by the church hierarchy, and has led to calls for an internal debate and reflection

on the role of ethnic minorities within the Methodist polity.

This marked tendency towards local and transnational encapsulation among Akan

speakers has implications for the wider debate on multiculturalism in Britain. In effect, their

ethnically exclusive fellowships lead to the creation of a bi-polar transnational social field

within the confined space of a single institution, the Methodist church, which itself is both

British and transnational. This feature of the church allows for the simultaneous negotiation

of different citizenships. On the one hand, being members of a transnational polity whose

roots and centre are in Britain makes Ghanaians in their own eyes naturally British citizens,

but it also permits them to create ethnic fellowships which transcend the boundaries of the

nation, while at the same time transforming the church into a multicultural polity.

For more recent Ghanaian migrant arrivals, living in London without residence visas

or work permits, the presence of Ghanaian Methodist fellowships signifies a British

recognition of the contribution made by Ghanaians to the UK as British citizens and helps

legitimise their presence in Britain in their own eyes since, despite their illegal status, they

are citizens within the British Methodist Church. For those who have been settled in the

country over a longer period of time and possess all the necessary legal documents, the

Ghanaian Methodist fellowships become a space to celebrate diversity, by maintaintaining

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their unique cultural link with their home country and remaining engaged in the project of

Ghanaian nation-building while living in the diaspora (Mercer, Page & Evans 2009). Both

these groups come together within the framework of the church.

Within multicultural Britain, the church constitutes an ideal space for intercultural

dialogue. As a British religious institution with a long history of engagement in social justice

and progressive themes, British Methodism has undergone considerable transformation in

recent years in order to accommodate a growing number of ethnic fellowships. The ensuing

debate created by the efflorescence of such ethnic fellowships mirrors wider debates on

citizenship and multiculturalism in Britain. As in Britain as a whole, themes of allegiance to

the British Methodist church, of active citizenship, of cohesion and integration, are central to

this internal debate in the church, especially as it relates to the more highly encapsulated

ethnic fellowships like the Ghanaian ones.

Addressing active citizenship in Britain: towards a Feminist and Aristotelian synthesis

These new challenges can be met only by government and people working together,

met only by an active citizenship, only by involving and engaging the British people

and forging a shared British national purpose that can unify us all... Here is the deal

for the next decade we must offer: no matter your class, colour or creed, the equal

opportunity to use your talents. In return we expect and demand responsibility: an

acceptance that there are common standards of citizenship and common rules. And

this is the British way: to say to all who live in our country there are common

standards and rules to be upheld. (Gordon Brown, Labour Party Conference 2007)

Over the last decade Britain has seen the affirmation and consolidation of a more

communitarian definition of citizenship. Based largely on the American republican model in

its late 20th century version (see for example Etzioni1993, Putnam 2000), the communitarian

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tradition places great emphasis on active citizenship and, as Gordon Brown underlined in his

speech, on shared rights, obligations and common standards for citizens. This is seen largely

as opposing an individualist, liberal tradition. It aims to promote the sense of collective duties

and social rights over individualism, technical expertise and the alienating tendencies of

market capitalism. As T.H. Marshall famously emphasised (1964), individual definitions of

citizenship, although potentially emancipating, cannot eradicate class and inequality. Instead,

he defined citizenship as ‘a status bestowed on those who are full members of a community’

(1964: 84). Although Marshall’s view was progressive, laying the philosophical foundations

for the welfare state, a number of feminist scholars have pointed out that the communitarian

stress on belonging and ‘actively joining with others to promote the common good in a

community’ (Assiter 1999, 44), is exclusionary in the sense that it tends ‘to homogenise

groupings’ and ‘to gloss over class, gender, racial and other power differentials between

groupings, in the interest of generating a common identity and a common value system’

(Assiter 1999: 45).

Against the homogenising vision of the communitarian tradition and the alienating

approach of the liberal tradition, feminist critics have suggested alternative constructions of

citizenship. Lister (1997), for example, proposes a feminist synthesis of the liberal and

communitarian traditions that would address citizenship’s exclusionary power and the public-

private dichotomy (see also Prokhovnik 1994). Lister argues that contrary to the stress on

universalism, citizenship has long excluded women and other groups, such as ethnic

minorities and the disabled, ‘from the theory and practice of citizenship’ (Lister 1997, 38),

relegating women to the private sphere. As a corrective to this false universalism, Lister

proposes the notion of a ‘differentiated universalism’ - ‘a universalism which stands in

creative tension to diversity and difference and which challenges the divisions and

exclusionary inequalities which can stem from diversity’ (Lister 1997: 39). Writing about the

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disability movement, Judith Monks suggests that it advocates an ‘alternative form of

citizenship which provides for a flexible kind of participation’ based on intersubjectivity and

relationality (Monks 1999: 66). Assiter suggests that citizenship should ‘not take it for

granted that individuals are members of nation-states’ (1999: 41), while Stasiulis and Bakan

argue that citizenship ‘is negotiated and is therefore unstable, constructed and re-constructed

historically across as well as within geo-political borders’ (1994: 119; see also Werbner and

Yuval-Davis 1999). These theoretical alternatives to legalistic definitions of citizenship are

seminal, allowing for a novel conceptualisation that aims to take into account intersubjective

moral relations between citizens.

Assiter uses the notion of an epistemic community, drawing on Aristotle, to refer to ’a

group of individuals who share certain interests, values and beliefs in common... and who

work on the epistemic consequences of those presuppositions’ (Assiter 1999: 47). A key

aspect in Aristotle’s theory overlooked by Assiter, however, is his invocation of virtue, ἀρετή,

to describe the good citizen, καλὸς κἀγαθόs, as the ideal (Adkins 1963, Newell 1987, Develin

1973). For Aristotle, citizenship is negotiated through the intersubjective communication and

pragmatic responsiveness to circumstances (Aristotle 1950, Adkins 1963, Develin 1973). In

this latter respect, citizenship is always specific; limited to a particular community and

particular historical setting, and the right to be a participatory citizen is dictated by individual

status. For Aristotle the virtuous citizen, the ἀγαθός, remains an ideal, achievable only by

those able to combine the universal qualities of humanity proper, of the virtuous man, with

the particular qualities of being a citizen subject to the law of the πόλις. As he says in the

Politics, ’Now in general a citizen is one who both shares in the government and also in turn

submits to be governed’ (1950: 92). As Adkins (1963: 35) points out, the good man/citizen,

καλὸς κἀγαθόs, relied for his survival and well-being on a clearly defined and demarcated

community in which virtue, mutual assistance, cooperation and trust were debated and agreed

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upon. This was more so for those living in a foreign land (1963: 35). There, survival was

often reliant on the patronage of good men within the household or οἶκος. It was in this

highly encapsulated space that the individual made sense of his experience and was taken

care of, nurtured, protected and recognised.

If we extend this notion of οἶκος to the migrant community, we may argue that

encapsulation within the church provides the protective environment needed to survive in a

foreign land. In Aristotelian terms, a flexible, postcolonial diasporic citizenship is expressed

by the notion of virtuous citizenship within the British Methodist church. The church

provides a ‘nurturing’ space where Ghanaians organise themselves in encapsulated

fellowships, coming together to worship and celebrate their contribution to Britain and Ghana

through their efforts in the church. In the process they construct an ideal model of virtuous

citizenship, one that encompasses their experience as subjects and citizens in Britain and in

Ghana. Within the fellowships differences in immigration status and time are erased. There is

space for both newcomers and pioneers, the long-term settlers, to cooperate, engage, and

negotiate their presence in Britain. Encapsulation within the fellowship thus allows even

newcomers to achieve status, regardless of legal formalities. In the context of the Methodist

church these are rendered meaningless, conflated with the ‘British’ qualities of being

virtuous, hard-working and law-abiding.

Ghanaian Methodists in London thus understand their role as citizens not through

their direct active engagement in the national British public sphere, but through their active

participation in the Methodist church, its fellowships and associations, the help they extend to

their families in Ghana and Ghanaian nation-building. Being virtuous in their conduct

towards their fellow Ghanaians in Britain and at home qua subjects-citizens, they also

perform a moral role in bringing back the word of God to Britain. They work hard, pay taxes,

attend to the need of others, donate generously to the church and for other causes, help

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organise and attend public events and traditional rites of passage such as weddings, naming

ceremonies and funerals, and take part in welfare initiatives within the church and other

national and ethnic associations. This ideal of the virtuous postcolonial citizen is informed

both by Protestant Christian ethics, in particular the Methodist concept of holiness, the

pursuit of individual Christian perfection, and by Ghanaian cultural values, specifically the

Akan concept of ɔtema a relational and dialogical concept meaning empathy and compassion,

which contains the idea of the pain people feel when pain is inflicted onto others or people

are thought to be suffering. To have ɔtema means to possess the emotional and human

capacity for sociality, to feel and attend to the need of others. This concept, shared by several

ethnic groups in Ghana, defines Akan’s inter-subjectivity. For Akan in London it is cited to

explain why Ghanaians are law-abiding and caring, and are apparently not involved in

criminal activities.

Yet like the Aristotelian and Greek concept of καλὸς κἀγαθόs (Donlan 1973), there

are tensions between the universalist Christian message of holiness and the Akan concept of

ɔtema on the one hand, and the particularism practised by encapsulated Ghanaian Christian

fellowships, on the other. These exclude non-Ghanaians, while also revealing great deal of

competition among the different Christian fellowships. Like for the Greek καλὸς κἀγαθόs, the

Ghanaian virtuous citizen is pulled between personal interests and civic excellence (Develin

1973:71) To be an ideal citizen is hard, achievable by a few celebrated individuals, but the

concept nonetheless help making sense of their lived experience as African migrants in

London, living in an often hostile environment, without recognition and distinction in the

public sphere.

Ghanaians Methodists in London and the Construction of virtuous Citizenship

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The year 2007 was highly symbolic for Ghana, the fiftieth anniversary of Ghanaian

Independence. In London this historical event was marked by a great number of celebrations,

culminating in an official state visit of (now former) President John Kuffour. Nicknamed ‘the

gentle giant’ for his caring and unassuming attitude despite his considerable height, the

President embodied a new era in Ghana’s history, as the country has made great progress

under his rule, politically, socially and economically. His visit to London caused great

excitements for the UK Ghanaian diaspora, who perceives themselves as having contributed

directly to Ghana’s financial growth and rising reputation, and are perceived as having raised

the country’s international profile through their law-abiding,qualities, hard work, and

Christian moraly .They are the ‘true ambassadors of Ghana’2 -- of the country’s moral, civic

and religious values. This discourse is particularly central to the way in which Methodist

Ghanaians have come to conceptualise their presence in Britain. Throughout 2007, the

Ghanaian Methodist Fellowship in Britain was very active in the organisation of the

Independence celebrations, hosting a number of events including two thanksgiving religious

services at the Methodist Westminster Central Hall.

Westminster Central Hall is a highly significant space for Methodists worldwide. A

grandiose and imposing building in the centre of London, opposite Westminster and the

House of Commons, it symbolises the desire of Methodism to emerge in the public sphere in

Britain as a religious institution directly engaged with the political, moral, and social life of

the country (Frost & Jordan 2006: 124). For Ghanaians in London, worshipping at the

Westminster Central Hall, and indeed in other churches within London’s Methodist

landscape, is a sign of their contribution to Britain and of their recognition as good Christians

and good citizens. At the thanksgiving service held for President Kuffour at Westminster

Central Hall, a Ghanaian Minister living in Britain led the prayers for the large congregation

2 These words were pronounced by His Excellency Annan Cato the Ghanaian High-Commissioner to Britain on the occasion of the Ghana at 50th dinner dance party held at the Ibis Hotel, London, in March 2007.

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of Ghanaians, with the following words: “We are here, praying for the greatness of this

country, Great Britain. This is a Christian country and the Queen, when she was enthroned,

was given a Bible to lead this country. We know that many centuries ago people prayed for

this country and they did it so well that the country is where we are now. Also, we praise

Britain because it gave us John Wesley... and as he said, Praise the Lord!’” The Minister then

opened the singing of a famous Methodist hymn backed by the congregation, singing with

great passion, waving handkerchiefs, smiling and dancing. “We are jubilating,” a woman told

me. The Minister continued: “Everyone in this country knows that we are hardworking

people and law abiding. We have many people of success in the UK, Essien (the famous

Chelsea footballer)” -- the congregation laughed -- “doctors, lawyers and policemen, etc.

May God bless the work of our hands and our contribution to the United Kingdom! We pray

the Lord to give us strength to help the Christian history of this country. We pray for their

leadership, but we especially pray for its citizens. We are also part of it. God bless Great

Britain!”

In the Minister’s words Ghanaians have made a significant contribution to Britain. It

is a contribution that symbolically links postcolonial Ghanaians with colonial Britain and

Ghana through Christianity. For Ghanaian Methodists it is signalled in the words of the

Minister through the figure of John Wesley, founder of Methodism (Halevy 1971). Indeed,

John Wesley is appropriated as a Ghanaian; he has become part of the historical

consciousness of Ghanaian Methodists, a shared ancestor transforming Ghanaian Methodists

into British citizens. More tacitly the Minister’s message reiterates the strong link between

state and church for nation-building and for the making of citizenship3. This is part of a

public narrative in Ghana that associates the state with the church, and according to which

religious institutions like Methodism are seen as the main actors in public political life of the

3 At the inaugural speech of the Annual Conference of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana the Vice-President Alhaji Aliu Mahama “called on the Church to partner the State to overcome challenges such as poverty, malnutrition, the digital attitude and unemployment” (www.ghana.gov.gh 20/08/2007)

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postcolony4. If British people have prayed successfully for their own country and contributed

to its growth, Ghanaians aim to do the same both for Britain and for Ghana.

In leaving the building, my companion commented that ‘of course, if you do not have

the passport you are not British, but we contribute to this country, as the Minister said, we

pay taxes, we work, and especially in the church we do a lot... there you can say we are

[citizens]’. John is a first-generation Ghanaian migrant who, like other Ghanaians and

Africans in London, has overstayed his working visa. He knows he is not fully a British

citizen; he can only consider himself a law-abiding, hard-working subject, but he also wants

to share in the minister’s message of Ghanaians’ contribution to the UK. He is ready to

recognise his own contribution to Britain by sharing vicariously the achievements of those

who have made it -- the lawyers, doctors and policemen, even the footballers. He also shares

in the common history binding the two countries via Methodism and their moral role as

Christians. It is in the work in the church, John stressed, that Ghanaians in London become

active citizens and hence entitled to be regarded as British citizens. By stressing ‘God-

fearing’ as a Ghanaian quality he reiterated a widely shared discourse that regards religious

belief as the prerequisite for a virtuous life in the community. Citizenship therefore is not

bound to formal status, but is linked to agency and participation.

Empathy (ɔtema), Christian Ideology and the virtuous citizen

Ghanaians fear being tarnished with “shame” (animguase) if the honour of the wider

community is compromised by their behaviour. Although they say that they are just in Britain

to work and help their families and Ghana with their remittances, they also see themselves as

contributing to the economy of Britain. For those who have no legal status and rights and

4 A recent example of the influential role of Christian religious institutions in Ghana is the reinstatement by the Ghanaian government of “compulsory Religious education” in Ghanaian schools after a high-profile public campaign lead by a number of Christian churches that demanded that the government overturn a previous decision. Ghana’s President orders schools to reintroduce religious and moral education, in (www.assistnews.net, 10/04/2008)

13

who cannot vote or participate fully to the public and political life of Britain, being an active

citizen is difficult. Yet people are adamant that they contribute to Britain and they see their

presence here as a positive presence, especially in moral terms. Kofi, a member of the

Ghanain Methodist Fellowship, puts this clearly:

Ghanaians migrants, both legal and illegal, are in fact the best people to work with.

They are the best citizens but they are not recognised. They are the best citizens

because they are not troublesome, they work hard, they are quiet. They wake up, go to

work, shop, go home, cook and then go to work again. They mingle with the

Ghanaian society and then are also God-fearing. (interview, London, May 2007)

Moreover, they are bringing back the word of God to Britain. They are the new Christian

missionaries who, like their European counterparts in colonial Africa, are bringing Christian

values to the largely immoral British society (Ter Haar 1998, Van Dijk 1997). They are

teaching by example the respect for the word of God, for elders, the value of marriage, of

family and community. The presence of Ghanaians in many different churches and the

growth of Ghanaian Independent churches seem sufficient to prove their moral contribution

to the British way of life, despite their relative encapsulation. Their advance within the

church structures is proof of their contribution. Ghanaians worship regularly at the

Westminster Central Hall, boast the largest congregations in most London Methodist

churches, and were the first to be recognised as an ethnic fellowship by the British Methodist

Church when it granted them their own chaplaincy. Ghanaians are adamant that they are

making way into the ‘heart of Britain’5 through their religious congregations. This sense of

moral worth is captured in their hymns, sung in Twi6, part of the Methodist liturgy. The

hymns carry religious messages of moral worth inscribed in the singers’ regimented

5 Informal conversation with Ama, London, April 20076 These hymns are the direct translation in Akan of the traditional Methodist hymns. See Hymns and Psalms, Methodist Publishing House.

14

postures,7 but Ghanaians are adamant that their contribution goes further, and is contained in

their dances and drumming. Their liturgy, in their view, is richer and more colourful than the

English version, and it has brought strength to an otherwise ‘boring’ church.

This sense of recognition and moral worth is nurtured within the Christian

fellowships. The fellowships are seen as the space for care, nurture, and attendance to the

need of others. Branches of Ghanaian fellowships at home, they form a single umbrella

organization much like their Ghanaian counterparts. For Ghanaians the fellowships acts like

the abusua, the matrilineal clans, and like the abusua, the fellowships take care of their

members on any occasion, most especially in the course of funerals, ayiyε, which are central

to the formation of Akan personhood. As one minister remembered in the course of a sermon:

On the Cross Jesus wasn’t thinking about himself but of us. This is what you are

expected to do. Think of the other first and then yourself. A lot of people don’t know

the meaning of the word fellowship. Fellowship is unity. It is coming together and

helping each other. If it doesn’t happen is not a proper fellowship. When you send

money back home you do it for the people you love. They are the ones you think of. If

something happens we all contribute. We help the person and this means love. The

fellowship is like a family. (Reverend A.O, London, January 2007).

Like in a family, the fellowships encourage nurturing and helping others in need, both

materially and spiritually, and they are the space in which Ghanaians reflect on their

condition as migrants. Using the famous story of Jesus returning to Nazareth in Luke’s gospel

the Minister brought home this point:

It is very interesting when we go for a visit to Ghana, something funny happens. You

go home and then everybody wants to see you. Your father and mother take[s] you

out to see everybody, the son has come from overseas. They are very happy. They

want to see you and your parents boast about you.Everyone wants something from 7 For a comparable analysis see Mbembe 2007

15

you. But people shouldn’t expect that, because true love is beyond materialistic

things. (Reverend K.A, London, February 2007)

In the course of church meetings members pray for other members, for congregants’

families in Ghana, and for the local church. But they also pray for wider communities. They

direct their prayers to the Methodist church, to Britain and to people who are suffering

worldwide. These prayers move from the particular concerns of individuals for the well-being

and success of immediate relatives, to the universalist values of a Christian in the world

ecumene. They often pray for God’s intercession in relation to matters or events that ‘have

touched their hearts’. Reflecting on local and world news, they prayed, for example, in the

course of my research, for the victims of the Virginia high-tech shootings, for the victims of

the earthquake in Pakistan, for Madeline McCann’s safe return and for the release of Korean

Christian missionaries in Afghanistan. At times these prayers are encouraged through chain

text messages: ‘This is a prayer chain 4 Madeline who was kidnapped on holiday in Portugal,

please pray for a quick safe return 2 her parents and fwd this to evry1 on your contact list.

Never underestimate the power of prayer. You got to send this on. God Bless.’

Fellowships enable people to nurture universal Christian values of care and

compassion alongside the Akan idea of empathy, ɔtema: “You see, we Ghanaians have this

thing... it is taught to us since you are a child...and people are reminded of it when they do

something wrong... don’t you have any of it?”8 Ɔtema was not prominent in people’s

everyday conversations. It was taken for granted that adults possess it, but it emerged clearly

as a public discourse at funerals. During bereavement, fellowships show their generosity

through generous donations and material and spiritual support. And it is in bereavement that

people are able to show ɔtema. One friend told me: ’We organise funerals for our members...

as you know we Ghanaians like funerals... we help them, we support them... so ɔtema is this

capacity to feel the pain... to feel the pain that the other person is feeling. Without that you 8 Informal conversation Ama, London, October 2007

16

would not be able to help the person... you need to feel it.’9 She stressed her point by

clenching her fist and touching her heart. Empathising, feeling the pain that other people feel,

are central to the universalist value of humanity. ɔtema empathy, as the basis for humanity,

thus overlaps with Christian concepts of compassion, care and love. These are intersubjective

notions that help Ghanaian Methodists, and more generally Ghanaians, to elevate their lives

in London to a higher moral plane, which encompasses both diaspora Ghanaians and non-

Ghanaians alike. It is this capacity to empathise, to have ɔtema that potentially makes

Ghanaian migrants virtuous citizens in the church and in Britain:

... it is not that Ghanaians do not commit crime and steal in this country... you know

some of them they do, of course... but I think that Ghanaians do not really commit

crimes because they know their limits... they like making money easily, like

everybody, but you have this thing, ɔtema, they are thought about since they are

kids... it is the feeling of the pain you cause unto others... so that is why they stop...”

(Ekuia, London, November 2008)

Nevertheless, the high levels of Ghanaian encapsulation within their fellowships have

been criticised as exclusionary by other church members and the church hierarchy, concerned

about schismatic tendencies. This is exemplified by the case of a recent Ghanaian migrant

overstayer who has emerged as a well known figure in London Methodist Diaspora. His

biography illustrates the tension between the concepts of the virtuous active church citizen

and subject of multicultural Britain.

The virtuous and virtual life of an overstayer

John is a first generation Ghanaian Methodist from the Ashanti region in Ghana. A member

of a middle-class family of educationalists and prominent members within the Methodist

9 Informal conversation,

17

church in Kumasi, he arrived in London in 2003, leaving behind his wife and children. A

certified accountant in Ghana, and formerly the manager of an import-export company in

Accra, John works in London as a builder and cleaner on the London Underground. Like

many other middle class Africans who arrived in London with qualifications, from a

relatively wealthy background, John has experienced a loss of status (McGregor 2007,

Akyempong 2001). He doesn’t particularly like his jobs, seeing them as too menial, and feels

that his true potential is unrecognised in Britain. However, not having permanent residence

leaves him with no alternative. Like many other first generation Ghanaian migrants, his social

life in London is highly encapsulated. His network of contacts revolves around his extended

family, former school friends and church and associations members. These contacts have

helped his settlement in London in one way or another. An uncle wrote the letter inviting him

to Britain, and he first arrived with a working visa; another uncle hosted him for six months

before he was able to find his own accommodation; a former business associate in Accra

helped him find his present jobs; a cousin helped him with the bureaucratic procedures of

obtaining a National Insurance Number and GP registration; a friend gave him his first TV

and a mobile phone. All these relations have remained part of John’s network of mutual

dependence and indebtedness that link him simultaneously to London and Ghana. It is,

however, to the Methodist church that he told me he felt the most indebted. The church

provided him with the space to acquire the recognition and status he had lost when he came

to Britain, and made it possible for him to conceive of his presence in the country as an active

and virtuous citizen and a law-abiding subject, despite the lack of formal papers.

John called himself a ‘staunch Methodist’ and said he would not want to change his

affilitation for anything else. He saw Methodism as a very positive force in his life and in the

life of his country, Ghana. Methodism was associated for him with nation building, and

18

especially so in the field of education in which Methodist schools have achieved excellence.

As I was told by one church minister:

[t]he best schools in Ghana are religious schools and the best among them are the

Methodist schools... If you look at the history of Ghana, at independence the cabinet

ministers were for the majority graduates of Mfantsipim College. This is a Methodist

school and the first secondary school in Ghana. In fact, we can say that Ghana was

born in Methodism. (interview, K.A. November 2006).

One acquaintance even suggested to me that the Methodist church could act as the

government in Ghana ’since the church’s constitution is like the country’s constitution.’

John, alongside other Ghanaian Methodists in London, aimed to extend the positive

force Methodism has had on the material growth of Ghana to Britain. He phrased this in

moral terms: Ghanaian migrants would bring spiritual growth to the British Methodist church

and by extension, to the whole of Britain. He took great pride in what he saw as the

consolidation and recognition in Britain achieved by Ghanaians. Commenting on the number

of British ministers who have recently travelled to Ghana, he told me: ‘You see, these

ministers, they like going to Ghana, they want to see and learn and bring our style of worship

here... they know that they can’t do things without us anymore.’ (May 2007). For John the

British Methodist church was seen as dependent on Ghanaian church members. This echoed a

broader argument on the contribution made by migrants to the British economy. Just as

industries such as the service sector, health and caring were dependent on migrant labour, so

too churches also needed the presence of migrants for their survival, growth and

consolidation. But because Methodism is British, Ghanaian Methodists see their contribution

to Britain as more important than that of other churches. John stressed this point:

It is like with many things in this country. This is the country of Methodism. They

brought Methodism to us in Ghana and now they are forgetting it. We are here to help

19

them rediscover that. It is like we are bringing it back to help here; to help with the

spiritual life of the country.

John took an active role in the Ghanaian Methodist Christian fellowships. He attended church

regularly at a Methodist church in North London where he was a steward, as well as being the

financial secretary of the men’s fellowship. He was also the financial secretary of Christ

Little Band-UK, one of the Ghanaian Fellowships, and a member of the Ghanaian Methodist

Fellowship. Holding office was very important for him. He attained personal recognition and

status, alongside the experience of acting as an official and mastering the bureaucratic

language of the state. In John’s own words, he felt this enabled him to be an ‘active citizen’.

When trying to encourage members to participate in the election for the Executive Committee

of Christ Little Band-UK, John appealed to them: ‘You need to cast your vote, don’t be

passive citizens, you need to take sides.’ Like in early post-independence Ghana, associations

in the UK are often ’schools of citizenship’ (Wallerstein 1964). As such they are important

spaces for nation-building.

Within the church John has made many new friendships and considerably extended

his network. Praised for his caring nature and much loved because of his good humoured

disposition, he was able in less than five years to become a respected and popular member of

the Ghanaian Methodist community in London. Through his relentless work, spiritual support

and attendance at services he carved out for himself an important position denied him in the

national public sphere, despite working in menial jobs. Most recently John was nominated a

patron of the Susanna Wesley Mission Auxiliary UK branch (SUWMA-UK), arguably the

most active Ghanaian Methodist fellowship in Britain. From its beginning in Ghana the

fellowship has always been associated with middle-class, successful women and this is also

the case in London where the majority of the members are prominent professionals and

businesswomen who settled in London over a long period of time, starting in the 1960s (see

20

Fumanti 2010). The position of patron was one that John desired very much. He felt very

proud of his achievements when the title was conferred on him in an official ceremony at

Westminster Central Hall in the presence of both British and Ghanaian church Ministers.

Being associated with the fellowship as their patron was symbolically a great step: he had

been bestowed a role of patronage over a group of prominent women who had lived in

London for a lengthy period. As patron, John had joined an illustrious roll call of patrons,

sharing his title with traditional chiefs (nana), Methodist Ministers, successful and wealthy

businessmen and women, doctors, lawyers and professionals. This was certainly testament to

John’s effective work in the church but it also pointed to the social and cultural continuity of

different waves of Ghanaian migrants over a forty-year period, and their continuous

engagement with Ghana and Ghanaian Methodism. John had not been ostracised by the ‘early

comers’, but had been incorporated and accepted as a member of Ghanaian Methodism to

which even the first settlers in Britain remained connected. The London branches of

Ghanaian fellowships mediated their long-term commitment to Ghanaian charitable and

development projects initiated by the church.

John, therefore, like other Ghanaian Methodists in London, actively pursued the ideal

of the virtuous citizen through his involvement in the life of these fellowships, their rituals

and congregational meetings. He paid his tithe regularly, and donated generously during

service for local and international causes, including development initiatives in Ghana. He also

contributed towards funeral expenses and other important rites of passage that sustained the

sociality of Ghanaians in London. John went a step further, however, in displaying his care

and nurturing side: he carved out for himself the role of mentor and counsellor to many of his

fellow church friends. In fact, he stressed that his name meant ‘Good Counsellor’. He told me

with great pride how he spent hours on the phone talking to church friends, giving advice and

support, praying or simply conversing: ‘Ah, last night when I came back from work I didn’t

21

sleep,’ he would often tell me. ’I was on the phone with Auntie Grace, we chatted until six in

the morning, we prayed, we consoled each-other, we chatted, we laughed... ahh it was

beautiful.’ Of course, John was not the only African in London who spent many hours on the

phone with friends. The long distances of travel to work, the very demanding work hours, and

the isolating experience of a city like London, did not leave many opportunities to socialise

outside church meetings. In London, the telephone plays a central role in communicating

with others (see also Harris 2005).

Pursuing the ideal of the virtuous citizen is not easy, and it was fraught for John with

contradictions and limits. His generosity was not simply an act of selfless dedication. It

enacted the Christian notion of generous giving in a system of obligation and indebtedness

stretching between Ghana and London. Paying tithes in the church and donating generously

are conceptualised by Ghanaians in instrumental terms as a transaction with God. This is

spoken of as the planting of seeds that will eventually yield a great harvest, bringing wealth

to the harvester. The idea is intrinsic in Protestant ethics, where wealth is a positive value to

be pursued, but is particularly accentuated in present-day Ghanaian Methodist philosophy as

a consequence of the growth and influence of the Pentecostal gospel of prosperity in Ghana

and Africa more generally (Gifford 2004). The transactional nature of these donations is also

culturally consonant with practices of gift exchange among Ghanaians. This is best described

by the Twi expression, gye to ho mame. Roughly translated it means ‘keep it for me when I

need it’. Gye to ho mame is an expression that accompanies donations in the course of

funerals and other important life events. Through this expression the donor establish a link of

interdependency with the receiver, creating indebtedness and future expectation of

reciprocity. The more one donates the more the return. This is also the logic that infers the

contribution for welfare schemes in the Methodist Christian Fellowships. One member put it

in these terms: ’A lot of people attend many associations and fellowships because of what

22

they get in case of bereavement, or weddings and such… you know, it is really a lot.’

Discussing the benefit of the proposed ‘Ghanaian Methodist Fellowship welfare fund,’ the

chaplain brought this point home very clearly: ‘The fund would be there to help each other in

time of need for the members and also others in the church, if you don’t want to pay then it is

up to you, but you know NCNC… No Contribution, No Chop… if you don’t pay you don’t

benefit.’

Belonging to a Christian fellowship, like any other association, is a way to contribute

to the common good in Ghana and the Diaspora, but is also insurance in case of personal

need to respond to contingencies and unplanned or sudden events occurring in the family,

abusua. Because funerals are central to Ghanaian and Akan sociality, raising funds and

donations towards funeral expenses is very important. The contributions help organise

funerary rites in which the life of the deceased is celebrated and the needs of the living are

strengthened and recognised through care, nurturance and mutual relations. Gye to ho mame,

keep it for me when I need it, is then a long term investment, based on mutual trust,

establishing mutuality and exchange among donor and recipient. John’s donations, like those

of other Ghanaians in the diaspora, included relations stretching between London and Ghana.

Among these, kin demands to remit home remained a central concern. For John and other

overstayers who were unable to travel to Ghana, the financial demands were particularly

compelling and sought after.

Encapsulation, Suspicion and Trust

John’s virtuous achievement as a citizen was confined within the Ghanaian fellowships. As

an overstayer, although he paid taxes he was not a particularly law abiding British subject. He

had broken the law by remaining after his visa had expired and had sought ways to gain

citizenship illegally through an arranged marriage, even though he was already married.

23

Within their fellowships, he and fellow Ghanaians worshipped exclusively in Twi, and used a

liturgy borrowed from Ghana, setting themselves apart from other British Methodists.

Although they also worshipped regularly in multicultural congregations, the scope in these

for the formation of long-term inter-ethnic relationships was rather limited. Ghanaians tended

to dissociate themselves from other ethnic groups, especially other black minorities in the

church. They did so to distinguish their achievements in Britain and their moral standings as

virtuous citizen in opposition to those who are perceived as bad achievers and unlawful.

In particular they distanced themselves from Caribbean and Nigerian, depicting them

stereotypically as unruly, unlawful, violent and bad achievers, a threat to Ghanaian values,

especially for the younger generation. As one parent told me: ‘Our kids, you know when they

hang around, they get really influenced by these other black kids, and they influence them

badly, especially the Caribbeans, their kids don’t do well in school.’10 The Ghanaians I met,

especially those who came to London as students, stressed the poor levels of education of

Caribbeans in particular. This was a common view among Ghanaians, who prided themselves

on their level of education. One of my informants, Attah, recalled:

To be honest when I arrived I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying.

At first it was fine but then things started to go wrong. I think they saw us as better

achievers than them... you know... I think that the problem is one of education...

When they arrived they did not have a lot of education. They could not get the job

they wanted to do, but only low skilled jobs because at the end of the day that was the

only job they could do, bus drivers, cleaners and so on. So they were not very

educated and their children as well could not be educated. Also a lot of them [the

children] are from single parents and so it is more difficult, so it is really something

that keeps perpetuating [itself]. I don’t blame them but it is what happened I think. I

10 Mary, London, November 2007

24

think sometimes they always think society is against them. Sometimes it is but not all

the time, it’s not society’s fault11.

Even though recent economic migrants from Ghana are employed in menial jobs, they share

these same views on education as the pioneer diasporic Ghanaians in London.

For Ghanaians in London trust, gyade, is critical to their social relations. Gyade

regulates friendships and is particularly important in the diaspora for those without proper

documentation. Gyade binds people to another in reciprocal mutuality and it is sanctioned

morally through the creation of fictive categories of kinship. Ghanaians use kinship

terminology, both in Twi and English, to sanction these relations, such as nua, brother/sister,

when belonging to the same age group as ego, uncle/auntie when belonging to an older

generation than ego. These are common and endearing terms of respect among individuals

belonging to different age groups term. The same concept is also used to establish relations

with other ethnic groups.

When it comes to issue of trust, or gyade, Nigerians are at the top of the list in terms

of unreliability. They share negative stereotypes with Caribbeans, but they are depicted in

addition as wealthy, successful, actively involved in public life, loud and exploitative. Their

wealth is seen as coming from corrupt deals and financial scams, the famous 419 is often

mentioned (Smith 2001). Hence Ghanaians are generally suspicious of Nigerians and try to

distance themselves from them. Yet for those Ghanaians who want or need to manipulate the

system, Nigerians are also revered as they are seen to know all the legal loopholes that enable

the acquisition of whatever documentation is required. Thus lack of trust linked to ethnic

stereotyping contributes to Ghanaian encapsulation. At the same time they construct

Ghanaian identity as virtuous and trustworthy. There are thus clear limits to the reach of

humanistic values such as ɔtema empathy, and Christian compassion. Yet setting limits to

empathy and compassion is highly problematic for a Christian institution like the Methodist 11 Interview with Attah, London, December 2007

25

church, which regards ethnic stereotyping and encapsulation as a problem. Hence, paralleling

the wider national debate on immigration and multiculturalism in contemporary Britain, a

similar debate is currently taking place within the Methodist Church, focused on the

increasing number and role of ethnic minorities, especially of Africans within the church, and

their possible threat to ‘church cohesion’.

Methodism, Multiculturalism and Citizenship

The Methodist church, especially in London, has been reflecting on and debating the role of

ethnic minorities for a long time, at least since the 1970s. Through the work of a number of

progressive ministers working in inner London, the church has recognised and allowed for

the growth of ethnic minorities fellowships to cater for the spiritual needs of different

congregations (Frost and Jordan 2006). Also, contending with its own past of

discrimination12, the Methodist church has been a strong force against racism. In London, the

church has provided a space supporting the numerous and growing ethnic minority

communities, including the recent recognition of new ‘ethnic’ chaplaincies (Ghanaian,

Nigerian, Zimbabwean, Sierra Leonian, Korean and Chinese). Their tendency towards

encapsulation has, however, prompted a fresh debate on ‘church cohesion’. The issue

emerged publicly in 2007, at a Methodist conference held in Derbyshire. The exclusionary

tendencies of their fellowships has also a growing concern for the Ghanaian chaplaincy

which at times must struggle to reconcile Ghanaian exclusiveness with a more inclusive

loyalty to all members of the British Methodist Church and, more generally, Britain.

Between February the 2nd and the 4th 2007 the World Church Forum (the international

office of the Methodist Church) hosted a conference in Derbyshire entitled ‘Ethnicity,

Cohesion and the Church’. As one Methodist minister explained to me, this conference came

12 See in particular. Only One Race- the Human Race: Sybil Phoenix and Racism Awareness, in Frost and Jordan 2006, pp.202-214.

26

about to address several issues. The first was the increasing use of Methodist church

buildings by other Christian denominations. Methodist ministers across the country reflected

on the absence of any interaction between Methodist congregations and these non-Methodist

Christian communities: ‘We just knew them as our users but we wanted to know more about

them as they are using our premises.’13 Letting out premises to other Christian denominations

is a common practice in Britain. With the increasing number of so-called Independent

churches, there is a need for more religious buildings across the country, and it is common to

have two or more denominations holding their services in the same building on any given

Sunday. The spatial proximity of other Christian churches, often Black churches, opened up,

in the words of this minister, the need to reflect more widely on the increasing role of ethnic

minorities within Methodism. It is now well accepted by British churches that without the

presence of migrants, Methodism and other Christian denominations in Britain would be

moving towards ‘extinction’. With the dwindling numbers of white Methodists, the majority

elderly members, this is especially so in large urban areas, while churches have been closing

down across the country. The arrival of migrants has changed the tide.

But the reflections within the Methodist church are not just practical. They involve a

deeper reflection on race, ethnicity and the teachings of Methodism that parallel wider

debates on multiculturalism and race within British society. During the course of March 2007

I interviewed a number of different ministers who had taken part in the conference: four from

Africa, (from Kenya, Zimbabwe and Ghana) and two white British. They all expressed their

concern over these issues, some more clearly than others. On the one hand, the English

ministers expressed a sense of moral debt and guilt for the past attitudes of the Methodist

church. One minister pointed out to me that the Methodist church, like other denominations,

bore responsibility for the way in which race was handled in Britain. Recalling the rejection

of Black Caribbean members in their congregations she said:13 Interview with Reverend J, Leicester, March 2007

27

I think the Methodist church has responsibilities in that. There are countless accounts

of how Black members were rejected from the congregation and told to go and attend

the church down the road. I think it is time that the Methodist church confronts that

past of racial discrimination and recognises the role of all the different migrant groups

in the church today. We shouldn’t repeat the mistakes we made in the past. (Interview

with Reverend J, Leicester, March 2007)14.

The legacy of racial discrimination and the changing attitudes of the church have

consequences for the relationship between Caribbean and Africans. Many of the Ministers

conceptualised the tense relationship between the two communities as linked to the fact that

while Caribbeans had experienced open, prima facie racism and discrimination, African

congregations were more easily accepted within the changing multicultural context of

contemporary Britain. The Caribbeans had to fend for themselves while for Africans, there

was the example in London of two very large established Korean and Chinese fellowships,

which meant that they had an “easier” path towards recognition. This created a sense within

the Caribbean community of a possible takeover of the church by newly arrived communities,

and lack of acknowledgement of their role in the fight for racial equality in Britain. In

remembering the inauguration of a Ghanaian fellowship in a Methodist church in West-

London, Kweku stressed this point: ‘When we formed our fellowship you could just imagine

what happened, the Caribbeans started to complain that we were taking over, that we wanted

to impose our views.’ When it comes to contending with the church history of racial

discrimination and the legacy of the slave trade, Caribbeans regard Ghanaians and other

Africans equally responsible. It is a painful history, and more than one minister in London

has tried to redress this historical divide by taking Caribbean and Africans members of their

congregations on educational trips of Ghana and the Caribbean. One African Minister told me

emphatically: 14 A similar point was also made by another British Minister, J.P., London, February 2007

28

There is not a good relationship among them... so I thought that slavery could have

been a key issue in rebuilding trust in the congregation. So we decided to go to

Ghana, many of the Caribbean members went and it was nice, they met with the

relatives of our Ghanaian members there and we all went to the Fort where the slaves

came from. It was very moving for us all, we all embraced each other and cried and

they could see we were part of a system, we were victims too, so after that the mood

in the congregation really improved. (interview, Reverend D. October 2006)

The final motive which has moved the Methodist church towards a more open debate

is the fear of schismatic tendencies within the church. Methodism was historically a

schismatic movement of the Anglican Church15 and for two centuries, from the mid 18th

century until the 1930s,16 British Methodism was composed by a series of different

denominations more or less linked to Anglicanism.17 At the end of the 1800s, American

Methodism departed from British Methodism and only in 1932 were all these groups reunited

under the umbrella of one Methodist church (Vickers 2000, Davies & Rupp 1965).

Methodism is also notable for the freedom given to its different ministers to pursue their own

theological work. Such a freedom runs the risk of encouraging the emergence of charismatic

leaders within the church, especially in the context of the African diaspora. The conference

and the current debate highlight the concerns within British Methodism regarding possible

tendencies towards the formation of independent churches.

While recognising the different fellowships, the conference’s concern was how these

fellowships should work together for the strength and good of the Methodist Church. The

message that emerged was clear: express your differences, the fellowships are spaces for that,

15 Dreyer (1999) however argues that the genesis of Methodism should be found in the Moravian church. 16 It is scholarly acknowldeged that Methodism was born on 23/07/1740 (Dreyer 1999). This is the date in which John Wesley and a small group of friends assembled in the London suburbs of Moorfields and started the movement.17 The Final Deed of Union was reached on 20/09/1932 bringing together the Wesleyan Methodist Church, the Primitive Methodist Church, the United Methodist Church to form the denomination formally known in today as the Methodist Church of Great Britain.

29

but remain committed to British Methodism. Help maintain cohesion in the church while

expressing and celebrating your different cultural backgrounds.

Ghanaian Methodists in London had had their own schism, following the official

appointment of the Ghanaian chaplain. A group portraying itself as founders of the Ghanaian

Methodist Fellowship worshipped for a while separately from the rest of the congregation

under the leadership of a Ghanaian preacher, not himself a Methodist, who was using the

premises of a Methodist church to conduct services. The British Methodist church stepped in

through the appointed Ghanaian chaplain and demanded the removal of this self-appointed

minister on the ground that he was not appointed by the church. More importantly, he was not

a member in any Methodist church either in London or Ghana. Not being a Methodist and

belonging to the church polity disqualified him immediately from the role or preacher.

Methodism has at its core the idea of being a polity. ’This is the bedrock of

Methodism,’ a minister told me.18 The polity is regulated by membership cards, which each

member carries. The card functions like an ID or Passport. One Minister explained: ‘The

membership card is very important because if you move house and go somewhere in the

country or other parts of the world where there are Methodist churches, you would carry your

card. We would also write a letter to the local Ministers to introduce you to them [the

congregation].19’ Methodism as a polity requires forms of identification but also a certain idea

of citizenship both within and beyond the wider polity. It is an idea of citizenship that allows

for flexible citizenship, (Ong 1998) but as it is confined within the limits of a religious

institution. Debating belonging within Methodism is a way of debating one’s role within

British society and transnationally, with Ghana. The debate has led Ghanaians to reflect on

their role in British society and the legitimate limits of their own encapsulation. A few days

after the conference, one minister, who had attended with three other Ghanaian Methodists,

18 Interview Reverend J.P., London, February 200719 Interview Reverend A.O, London, November 2006

30

reflected on the long term sustainability of the Ghanaian fellowships which are failing to

attract the younger generation and newer migrants:

There is a risk that we would disappear in a few years’ time. Maybe the language is a

problem, to do it in Twi (i.e. to hold the services). You see, there are a lot of new

fellowships in the church and they are impressive really. The Zimbabweans are very

active, there is soon to be a Nigerian fellowship. But the Chinese and the Koreans,

they are really strong. You know how the Chinese call themselves? The BBC…

British Born Chinese…we need to show the British Methodists that this fellowship

[the Ghanaian] is effective and viable… you know, or there would not be funding for

us any longer as a fellowship.20

His comments reflect the view of some Ghanaians Methodists that integration is

preferable to absolute encapsulation. The joke on the Chinese BBC is an ironic recognition

that encapsulation has its limits. Access to the Methodist church is a sign of recognition and

acceptance within British society, so losing that recognition is something diaspora Ghanaians

do not want to risk. Exclusion from the church would indicate doubt over their allegiance and

loyalty to Britain and ultimately on their right to claim citizenship. Against the suspicion

surrounding ethnic fellowships and the fear of takeover one friend told me:

You see, I don’t think that people understand what we wanted. Our idea was to

promote a positive image about ourselves, our culture and traditions, the way we work

together and how we can contribute to the church and the community we live in. This

is our idea of integration. Not separation. They thought we wanted to discriminate and

separate ourselves, but we wanted to integrate. (Kweku, interview May 2007).

Acquiring recognition through difference, as distinctively Ghanaian Methodists, is central to

the process of integration within the Methodist church and Britain at large. This echoes

Charles Taylor’s point (1994) in his ‘politics of recognition’ that groups have the right to 20 Interview with K.A., London, March 2007

31

defend and promote their cultural identities, since it is these which grant them a sense of

equal dignity. Their shared organisational links and common heritage as Methodists means

that Ghanaians feel simultaneously incorporated both into Ghana and the United Kingdom.

This dual heritage defines flexible citizenship within the space of a transnational religious

institution. Within it loyalties are secured and so is a sense of belonging.

Minister Ogoe stressed these interelationships during the inauguration of the

Ghanaian choir in London:

Let us remember who we are. You are a choir within the Ghanaian Methodist

Fellowship. The Ghanaian Methodist Fellowship is part of the Methodist church. First

and foremost our duty is to the British Methodist church as we live in this country and

this is our place of spiritual nourishment. But we are also part of the Ghanaian

Methodist church as Ghanaians. So whatever you do for the fellowship you do it for the

Methodist Church. Let us not forget your service to the Methodist Church as a whole

and to this country in particular. (Reverend Ogoe, London, August 2008)

The Minister underlines in his speech the limits of legitimate encapsulation and the

negotiated construction of virtuous citizenship within the church. The Ghanaian Methodist

Fellowship is at present coming to terms with the need to engage with more inclusive

practices of active citizenship. They have become conscious of the necessity of counter what

appears to be an ethnic takeover, but they are also competing for prominence with other

African and Asian fellowships by showing that they are working hard to achieve permanent

roots in multicultural Britain, tolerant of diversity. In order to survive, they need to show that

they are here to stay. Hic Manebimus Optime, we will settle here as best as we can, the Latins

used to say.

Conclusion: Virtual Citizens, Virtuous Citizens

32

Akan speaking Methodists in London make sense of their diasporic experience through an

idea of citizenship built around the idiom of virtue. Regardless of their legal and formal

status, these migrants feel that they are virtuous citizens of Britain, to which they feel they

belong as Methodists, workers and law-abiding subjects, while remaining doubly rooted, in

Ghana and in Britain. Active membership in the British Methodist church provides the

context for the formation of this alternative construction of citizenship. ‘Virtuous

citizenship’, I have proposed, is rooted in the Methodist Christian ideology of universal and

selfless love and in the Akan concept of empathy, ɔtema. ɔtema empathy for the pain of

others, is at the basis of Akan personhood and sociality, expressed through moral and

material obligations to humanity at large, and more narrowly to family, abusua, and

fellowship members. These fellowships place great emphasis on welfare, mutual assistance,

and nurturing. It is in the course of church activities public events,and rituals, most notably

funerals and birthdays, that these obligations are performed.

Despite their ideal of ‘virtuous citizenship’, however, Ghanaian Methodists live

highly encapsulated lives, distancing themselves from other black ethnic minorities. By

advancing a synthesis between feminist and Aristotelian conceptualisations of citizenship I

have shown, through the case of one migrant overstayer, that ‘virtuous’ and ‘virtual’

citizenships are not irreconcilable in the minds of British Ghanaians but are part of the same

alternative construction of citizenship. Virtuous citizenship, even when virtual, is actively

sought by Ghanaians Methodists in London as they try to emerge as a distinctive group

within the Methodist church and Ghanaian diaspora. By making their way in the Methodist

church, Ghanaians feel that they are emerging and contributing to British life even if they do

so from their positioning as an ethnically marginal, exclusive and encapsulated community.

Encapsulation in ethnically exclusive fellowships remains, I have shown in this paper,

a highly problematic concept for the British Methodist Church whose internal debate mirrors

33

wider debates in Britain on multiculturalism and immigrant citizenship. At the same time the

church has tried to promote an idea of active and communitarian citizenship among its

various migrant ethnic fellowships. Ghanaians themselves are becoming increasingly aware

of the critique of encapsulation, but from their point of view ethnic fellowships do not imply

exclusion of exclusiveness: they are the loci where people’s agency is experienced, and

where people gain recognition, distinction and visibility, often in contrast with their lives

outside the church. It is there that they make a valuable contribution to the British Methodist

church. The fellowships allow Methodist Ghanaians to remain doubly rooted, in Ghana and

Britain, as flexible postcolonial virtuous, if at times virtual, citizens. And it is in addressing

the paradoxes of flexible citizenship as it is experienced within the limits of a religious

institution that this paper aims to bring a fresh contribution on the themes of multiculturalism,

transnationalism and diasporic citizenship.

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